


Reunions

by junko



Series: 'Tails' of Zabimaru [10]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Gen, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-06
Updated: 2012-08-06
Packaged: 2017-11-11 13:49:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/479199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junko/pseuds/junko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Renji returns to Academy after a summer at the Thirteenth, only to find everything changed....</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reunions

Even though Renji had ended up thoroughly enjoying his internship with the Thirteenth, he was happy to be back at Academy. For once, too, he had stories of his own adventures to share, even if Kira didn’t believe a word of them.

It had been a great day full of many happy reunions, but Renji was still anxious to find the one person he most wanted to share his stories with: Rukia. He thought for sure he’d catch sight of her at the juniors’ assembly where they all received class lists and got the now familiar lecture of ‘behavior expected of a soon-to-be officer.’ But, he’d been busy checking out his own new classes—damn it, repeating kidō again--so it didn’t entirely surprise him that he’d somehow missed her in the crowd and excitement.

Though he spotted a few of her girlfriends at lunch, Rukia seemed conspicuously absent in the mess as well. But, it was family day as well, so it was possible the Kuchikis had some kind private dining arrangements with the headmaster or Academy donors.

It had become a tradition for a bunch of his classmates to meet up at a local tavern on the first night back to raise a glass to each other and the new school year. When Rukia didn’t show up for that, Renji started to worry.

“Oi, Momo,” Renji shouted over the conversation at the crowded table, “You seen Rukia yet this year?”

After a few, ‘what?’s back and forth, Renji picked up his bowl and came over to where she sat. Momo seemed to have shrunk over the summer, either that or Renji had forgotten just how tiny she was. He always thought she could be pretty, too, if she ever did something with her hair other than hide it under silk tied back in an old lady’s bun. He felt bad edging Kira out of the way, since he knew how big a crush Kira had on Momo, but he’d leave him to it once he got a decent answer. “Have you seen Rukia in the girls’ dorm at all this year?”

“Oh,” Momo fluttered, her hands covering her mouth instantly. “That’s right! You weren't back yet. You haven’t heard.”

The sudden pounding of Renji heart brought sweat prickling under his armpits, “What? Is she alright? Shit! Did something happen to Rukia?”

“I’m kind of surprised she didn’t tell you herself. It’s kind of big news…”

Renji couldn’t quite stop himself from grabbing Momo’s narrow shoulders. He did, however, resist the urge to shake her. “What the hell happened?”

Kira’s hand was tight on Renji’s arm, “Chill out, Renji. It’s good news. Tell him, Momo.”

Renji was only able to let go with effort. “Yeah, tell me.”

“She tested out,” Momo said happily, clapping her hands. “Rukia’s graduated.”

“What?” Renji frowned before he remembered to act happy. “Oh, I mean that’s great… but, uh, how does that work?”

Kira moved away from the table to pull a chair over and huddle closer to them. He leaned in conspiratorially, “I was kind of surprised, too. I didn’t think Rukia was that good. She’s never been in any advanced classes with us.”

“You talking about that Kuchiki girl?” said a woman Renji didn’t recognize on the other side of Momo. “I heard her family paid for her to test early. I also heard they bought her a seat in the Guard already. Rich kids get all the breaks.”

Renji snarled, “Oi, Rukia’s not like that. If she tested out, she deserved it.”

The gossiper shrugged and shook her head, “Sure, if you say so.”

“Well, it is true that she’s already signed on,” Momo added with a nervous little laugh. “But, Renji, you should be so pleased. I guess she’s still unseated, but she’s in the Thirteenth.”

“Thirteen?” Renji was stunned, “Really? I was just there.”

“I know,” Momo said, “Isn’t that wonderful? She’s with your friends!”

Weirdly, by the end of the summer, Renji thought of Ikkaku and Yumichika as closer friends than Captain Ukitake and Kaien, but the Thirteenth was a nice division and certainly a better fit for Rukia. She’d probably get along there well, better than he had, honestly. But he was still shocked that he never even heard a word of this whole thing while at the Court Guard—and in the Thirteenth!

Could they really have been in the same division for several days and never seen each other? Why wouldn’t Rukia have sought him out? Maybe she didn’t know he was there…? But, damn it all, he should have seen her enlistment papers come across his desk.

Maybe it was a matter of timing. Kaien had been starting to take over a lot of the paperwork in those last weeks, anyway. Probably something important like that would have gone directly to the lieutenant or the captain.

More to the point, who knew about their friendship besides the two of them? It wasn’t like that elder brother of hers was going to encourage her to look up her old Inuzuri pal—that was provided Captain Kuchiki was even aware Renji was interning with the Court Guard. Though after the kidnapping by the Eleventh, Renji heard he’d gotten a weird sort of reputation as a coveted paperwork hound. But, Captain Ukitake was the sort who would have made a big deal of getting him and Rukia together as a final surprise gift, if he’d known. Renji was sure of that.

It was just bad luck, then.

Something still bothered him, though: “How come you guys know all this?” he asked Kira and Momo. “When did you see her?”

“Oh,” Momo looked away guiltily. “At her good-bye party… last night.”

“Yeah,” Kira added, “She came back to show off her uniform. It was pretty cool. I was a little jealous.”

“I know, right? Me, too,” Momo said and they fell into gossiping about everything that had happened at the party and their opinions, quietly, about whether or not Rukia deserved to test out early.

Renji sat back, frowning.

Shit. He’d missed Rukia’s big moment.

And Renji had insisted that he stay on long enough to file that last bit of stubborn paperwork, too. Ukitake would have let Renji go earlier, if he’d asked, but they’d made it a kind of satisfying good-bye ritual.

Figures.

Worse, Rukia probably thought he’d blown her off intentionally, sulking over the fact that he wasn’t going with her—or that he thought she didn’t deserve it, either.

“Did you see her zanpaktō?” Renji interjected. “What was it like?”

Kira was giving him the strangest glance. “It looked like a katana, Renji.”

“Yeah,” Momo said with a nervous sort of smile. “Like our practice swords, only edged.”

Renji snorted disbelievingly at his friends, and sat back to join them. “‘Only edged,’” he repeated. “Jeez, you guys. It’s a living blade.”

“That’s not what they mean by a ‘live’ blade, Renji,” Kira said in that snotty, professorial tone he got when he was sure he was right about something or desperately wanted to correct someone. “That’s just a kind of a phrase that people use; it means edged.”

“Holy fuck, Kira, how stupid do you think I am?” Renji asked. At their gaping, uncertain-what-to-say-here mouths, he raised his hands. “No, don’t answer that. Just trust me here, okay? I know the difference between a live blade and a living one. Zanpaktō are both.”

Kira suddenly started digging through the pockets of his uniform. “Where are you getting that? This is the first year we can take courses on zanpaktō, isn’t it? You haven’t been in a more advanced class than me this whole time, have you?” Finding the slip that had his year’s schedule, Kira pointed at some fine print triumphantly. “Yes, see. It’s required to be a third year. No exceptions.”

“Does it say on there that you can’t check out books from the library before you’re a junior, too? Dude. Go to the library once,” Renji teased just because he knew how much it would irritate Kira to be schooled like this. “There’s a ton of books on zanpaktō. I’ve read almost all of them.”

Just then some friends of Momo’s came over and insisted on a welcome-back hug. Then, the girl decided that she needed a hug from Renji and Kira as well, and her friends, who knew none of them, all wanted the same just to be friendly or drunk or something. Pretty soon all hope of continuing their conversation was lost in girlish squealing. 

Kira, however, didn’t like Renji knowing something he didn’t, apparently, because, when Renji decided to make a break for it, he followed Renji over to a quieter corner of the bar. They leaned against the far wall near an open window and watched the gathering of their friends from across the room. “You did not seriously read all the books in the library about zanpaktō,” Kira said, tipping back the last of his beer. “You don’t have that kind of patience.”

_Or skill, you’re thinking_ , Renji thought to himself, giving Kira a raised eyebrow over the rim of his bowl. Renji let Kira get away with the implication with a shrug, “Yeah, well, my tutor knew I’d stay on task if I was trying to read something I was interested in.”

“Oh, right, of course,” Kira said, brightening. “So she used books about fighting to keep you reading. Smart.”

“Pretty much. Only, I read everything about zanpaktō, too.” He’d told no one but Rukia and Captain Kyōraku that he’d come to Academy looking for Zabimaru. So, when Kira raised his eyebrows curiously, Renji said, “You know, because swords are cool.”

Kira nodded, and Renji’s dorky answer must have satisfied him because he didn’t press the issue any more. They stood for a while without saying much. “Well, for once, you’re going to have a leg up when classes start,” Kira said jealously. “What if you get a better grade in zanpaktō than I do?”

“Then it’ll just be like zanjutzu all over again, won’t it?”

“I hate you,” Kira said, though his tone was light.

“Well, don’t. I have to take kidō again.”

“Third time is your last chance, you know,” Kira said admonishingly. He looked deeply into his empty bowl as if hoping to find more beer at the bottom if he stared long enough.

“Third time’s the charm, maybe, huh?”

“I’ll tell you what,” Kira said, “You help me ace zanpaktō and I’ll tutor you in kidō.”

Renji laughed. “Okay, but at your own risk. You do remember I tend to blow things up, right?”

“How could I forget? How could anyone forget? Sometimes I wonder how you ever passed the entrance exams.”

_Well_ , Renji thought, _I’m not entirely sure I did…_

#

Renji sat in very last row, trying to stay awake through ‘Zanpaktō: Theory and Meditative Practices.’

It was difficult. It was a 9:00 a.m. class and the lecturer couldn’t be more dry and lifeless. The sensei was gray—gray hair, gray kimono, gray… everything, and from this distance looked sort of like a smudge of boringness. 

Worse, Renji had already read the entire textbook. It was one of the first he’d worked through with the librarian because the concepts were so basic and simple. 

Renji’d hoped, maybe, that the teacher would, despite his unenthusiastic lecture style, have something to new say about zanpaktō and that would make the class worth it--some in-depth, personal experiences a person could only have after a long-term relationship with a living sword. Renji had also thought perhaps, if he got a chance to show off his interest and knowledge, he might be able to talk one-on-one to the instructor after class, maybe find a new ally, a mentor.

But, the sensei was one of those.

As a third year, Renji didn’t run across it as much anymore, but there were still certain teachers who made sure Renji knew exactly where they thought he belonged—at the back of the line, with all the others from better districts in front. He’d never be allowed to approach the front, and if he ever had something to contribute to this asinine discussion, Renji knew he’d never be called on -- even if no one else in the room had their hands up.

He’d drop the class if it wasn’t a requirement.

Renji was doodling a new tattoo design he’d been imagining on his back, when the instructor started… telling lies.

“You will never know your zanpaktō’s name until you’ve spent significant time mediating with it.”

_Bullshit. Never met him. His name is Zabimaru._

“You cannot expect to be friendly with your zanpaktō. He or she is a beast in need of subduing.”

“Fuck that shit.”

Only when the room grew so totally silent that it seemed the whole world was holding its breath did Renji realize he’d said that last part out loud. Worse, because of his placement at the very top of the stadium seating, his voice had echoed through the entire room.

Everyone had turned to stare at him in abject horror. Even Kira.

The instructor blustered instantly, “That sort of crude language will not be tolerated,” he said with the most passion he’d exhibited in the last hour. “Get out of my classroom this instant. You can wait in my office to discuss whether or not you’ll continue this course.”

Renji got up and left the room without protest. He’d apologize if he thought it would help, but he’d had enough run-ins with this type to know better. He couldn’t even work up any shame over it; he was only mad at himself for unthinkingly giving an instructor like this one the ammunition he needed to kick him out the first fucking day.

#

However, Renji hadn’t expected the instructor’s office to be occupied by someone already. He could feel a presence lurking behind the rice paper door, like a spider in a web. He knocked to be polite, but no one answered.

Standing there for a moment, Renji tried to decide if he’d get in more trouble if he waited in the hall or interrupted whoever the sensei had in his office. Whoever it was, their reistsu was curious and strange. Renji couldn’t quite shake his initial impression of a spider, though he also got the sense it could be an ancient, yet elegant person… like a lady used to power, though perhaps to exercise it over people unkindly---hmmm, maybe sensei’s wife or mother?

He put his ear to the door, hoping to hear her moving around. “Ma’am? Can I come in? See, I’m supposed to wait in the office for—“

“Who are you talking to, boy?” the zanpaktō instructor came down the hall. Renji could see curious faces peering out of the classroom at them. Was class over already? It must be, there were others beginning to stream into the hallways.

“Your—“ he was already in so much trouble, Renji didn’t want to insult the instructor by assuming wife when it could be girlfriend or, super awkward, mother, “—friend. The lady who’s waiting in your office.”

“There’s no one in my office, fool. Get in.” Sensei pushed aside the door, and strode into his office. 

Renji trailed behind cautiously, scanning the room for the other person he was certain was there. The office was cluttered with papers and half-forgotten tea bowls tucked into a dozen different corners, but the small room smelled pleasantly of red rot, like a library. Nearly every bit of wall space was covered in overflowing bookshelves. Except one spot, a sword rack just over sensei’s desk.

Finally, Renji eyes were drawn to what he’d been sensing—but it wasn’t a woman at all, but a zanpaktō set in that place of honor, like an award or a trophy. 

“Sit,” the instructor demanded sharply. Renji complied. For such a mousey, gray, uninteresting lecturer, he was certainly riled up now. “You may be able to get away with such vulgar, foul-mouthed conduct in other classrooms, but I won’t tolerate it.”

“I understand, sir,” Renji said, with a bow of his head. There wasn’t much else he could say. He hadn’t meant to say anything out loud. It just slipped out. 

As Renji waited to hear what sensei would say, what his punishment would be for the outburst in class, Renji finally really looked at the teacher, up-close. He had short hair the consistency and color of steel wool, though his eyes were dark and intense now in her presence, like a--

“--Kuroi no Kumo, Black Spider,” Renji said to himself, his gaze drawn back to the zanpaktō, with her shiny sheath, inky and reflective as an insect’s carapace, and gauzy white ribbon that hung from her hilt, like cobwebs. 

“How dare you speak my zanpaktō’s name!”

“What?”

“Who told it to you?” Sensei was on his feet now, shouting. “No one should know it! I haven’t called Kuroi no Kumo out in years—no, decades.”

Renji blinked, not even sure how they’d gotten on this apparently very touchy subject. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, sir.”

“Kuroi no Kumo. You said her name. Why?”

“I…” Why had the words come to him? “Uh, I was just thinking out loud.”

“Well, that seems to be a very bad habit of yours, Mr. Abarai,” Sensei said sharply, though he settled back down calmly, deliberately. Renji also noticed he’d gained a ‘mister’ somewhere along the way. “If you hope to advance in my class, you should learn how to curb it.”

Wait… he wasn’t getting sent to the headmaster’s office or to some kind of detention or to face other discipline right away?

“That horrible thing you said in class,” the sensei said with a disapproving sniff, “Why did you say it?”

“I disagreed with your lecture point,” Renji said carefully. 

“Obviously quite stringently,” he said curtly. “Yet, from my understanding,” he shuffled through a few papers on his desk, “There’s only three of you in my class who have ever touched anything resembling a zanpaktō--yourself, Mr. Kira, and Ms. Hinamori. What in that brief experience made you so adamant in your opinion, young man?”

Renji tried to decide the best tack, but gave up with a shrug. He was already in hot water with this guy, he might as well just tell the truth, “Conversations with Captain Kyōraku.”

“That old drunk? What on earth does Kyōraku think he knows about taming a zanpaktō?”

“Uh, well, nothing,” Renji agreed. “He doesn’t think you need to ‘tame’ it per se; he thinks there’s another way.”

“Well, he’s wrong,” sensei said quickly. “You’ve chosen a poor mentor in the art of zanpaktō, Mr. Abarai. And, if you insist on following his lead, you may be headed down a very dangerous path that could destroy you utterly. Listen carefully, boy. Zanpaktō are extremely powerful and dangerous beings, not to be treated lightly. Do not make the mistake of underestimating them. You must respect the sword, and, to do that, you must be its master.”

Renji nodded, this was the sort of thing he had been hoping for. As much as he tended to instinctually trust and agree with Kyōraku, Renji had been craving an equally passionate, opposing opinion that wasn’t in a textbook. “I want to learn that, too.”

Sensei looked momentarily startled, “You do?”

“Yes, sir, I do. I want to learn everything, so I can be ready when I finally meet him.”

“Him?”

Oh, shit. Another slip. Cripes, how brainless was he this morning? “Uh, I just mean my zanpaktō… uh, if I get one.”

The teacher pursed his lips, and his eyes narrowed. Renji had that sensation of being observed carefully, menacingly, like a spider would its prey, “You’ve dreamed of it already, haven’t you?”

“I….” Renji faltered. He was never sure when it was safe to admit something like that.

“Now I understand. Very well,” the sensei said, standing up and indicating that Renji should do the same. “I will allow you to continue in this course, but don’t think you’ve escaped punishment for your offensive disruption of my class. We will deal with that in two ways. First, something swift and immediate, then, you’ll be required to be my office errand boy for the rest of the semester. Do you understand?”

Well, it could be worse, “Yes, sir.”

**Author's Note:**

> This got a bit long, so the next installment will pick up shortly after this moment.


End file.
